Birthday Ride

There is a tradition in the cycling community of The Birthday Ride. Classically, the tradition is to ride your age in miles on your birthday, though there are variations. This year I turned 75. To me, this felt like a big deal: three quarters of a century! Short of living to be 100, I don't think I will ever have a more special birthday. Never in my life had I ridden a Birthday Ride but it seemed like if I ever were to do one, this should be the year.

I can't remember when it occurred to me that I should to do a birthday ride this year. I did consider a birthday ride in 2021. Back then, that ride would have been 72 miles long. What inspired this was that I was having a bad year. I had just failed to complete my training plan for the Art of Survival metric century and I thought I might be able to compensate for that failure with a Birthday Ride. Unfortunately, the same problems that kept me from preparing for the 60 mile long Art of Survival kept me from preparing for a 72 mile long Birthday Ride. I did have a plan to attempt a 75th Birthday Ride by last February because I mentioned it in a blog post. So it was probably sometime between May of 2021 and February of 2024 when I decided to attempt a 75 mile long birthday ride this July.

The Plan

I knew that completing 75 miles would be a challenge for me at my age and at my level of fitness so I focused on doing everything I could to make it possible for me to complete the ride. To that end, I decided the ride should be flat. To keep things simple, I decided to make the ride local. When I thought of rides that met those criteria, I decided that a ride along the Bay Trail was most promising. The Bay Trail is not yet complete, the current version consists of a collection of disconnected segments. There are two of these segments I ride regularly which I have named Bay Trail North and Bay Trail South. Back in 2019, I did a solo metric century in order to test my Metric a Month training plan and the route for that consisted of both of those segments as well as the city streets needed to get from one to the other. After a lot of thought, I decided that doing that for my Birthday Ride would make the ride too difficult so eliminated that option. If I were to ride only one of these segments, how would I get enough miles? In 2019, the parts of Bay Trail North and Bay Trail South with which I was familiar were similar in length. Since then, I have extended my knowledge of Bay Trail South, and, in addition to the Bay Trail itself, have explored four other high quality trails that connect with this segment of the Bay Trail: The Permanente Creek Trail, the Stephens Creek Trail, the Tomas Aquino Creek Trail, and the Guadalupe River Trail. Thus, I decided to string together a subset of these to construct a 75 mile long ride. The ride I actually did is shown in the figure at the top of the post and is discussed in more detail below.

Historically, I have favored bike rides that start and end at my house. More recently, I have been doing more rides where I put my bike on the back of my car and drive to the start point. I am working on a blog post explaining the advantages and disadvantages of each of these options but briefly, driving to the start of a ride opens up a lot of possibilities, especially now when I live in such a hilly neighborhood. For my birthday ride, I drove to the parking lot for Shoreline Lake Park which became the start and finish for the ride.

The Route

This ride took advantage of some of the wonderful cycling infrastructure provided by various governments in the San Francisco Bay Area. In addition to The Bay Trail about which I have previously blogged, I considered the four other trails listed above for inclusion into this ride. In the end, of the four other trails I considered, the ride included two: the Tomas Aquino Creek Trail, and the Guadalupe River Trail. I had ridden the full length of the Guadalupe River Trail during my metric century three weeks before and based on that experience decided to include only the first 6.7 miles of that trail in my Birthday ride. In earlier rides, I had ridden the first part of the Tomas Aquino Trail but had never ridden its full length, so took the opportunity of my Birthday Ride to do so. In the end, these two trails added 24 miles to the ride

The current version of the San Francisco Bay Trail has a somewhat complicated topography: it has gaps, it has branches, it merges with itself, and it has alternative routes. Sometimes it not obvious if one is on the Bay Trail or not and sometimes what the official map shows does not match what is on the ground. Given all that and knowing this section of the Bay Trail as well as I do, I decided that I would declare that everything that wasn't explicitly on one of the other two trails to be on the Bay Trail. Given that assumption, the Bay Trail accounted for 51 miles of the ride. 

Final statistic: If I leave off all the side trails and loops, a ride on the Bay Trail South segment from Cooley Landing to Alviso and back is 34 miles. A similar ride on the Bay Trail North segment from the Belmont Sport Complex through the Coyote Point Recreation Area and back is 20 miles.

The Training

2024 was something of a comeback year for my cycling. As noted above, 2011 was a bad year for my cycling. At the time, I blamed that bad year on my move from a relatively flat neighborhood to a very hilly one, though over time I have become somewhat skeptical of that idea. 2022 was a good year. In 2023, back problems interfered with my cycling, making that a bad year. On February 1, 2024, my level of fitness had reached to a very low level and it was from that low point that began a training program to prepare myself to ride the 2024 Art of Survival Metric Century at the end of May. By then, I had also decided to attempt a Birthday Ride, but did not have a clear plan for training for it. As I trained for and then completed The Art of Survival, I decided to use the Metric Century a Month training plan I had developed back in 2019 to prepare for my Birthday Ride. This plan was not a perfect fit in that the Birthday Ride was to be 75 miles long, longer than the 62 mile long ride for which the plan was developed, but I decided to ignore that mismatch. One implication of that plan is that I would need to ride an additional Metric Century between Art of Survival and the Birthday ride; the monthly Metric Century is an essential part of this training plan and there was two months between those two rides. I decided to do a solo metric century at the end of June to accomplish that requirement.

The Metric Century a Month Training Plan assumes a metric century ride every four weeks. This is somewhat unrealistic, metric century rides are not distributed that regularly across the calendar, and in response to that, it can be adjusted a bit by adding a week or two by repeating week 2 of the schedule, so I had planned to ride one four week schedule and one five week schedule, giving me some flexibility as to when to do my solo metric century; I could do it June 22 or June 29. As seems to always happen for me, my training schedule got disrupted so I was unable to ride my solo metric century on either of those weekends.  How did that happen?

The first four week block of the Metric a Month schedule went according to plan with the exception of one apparently minor change: the first week of that block, the recovery week, contained a few more miles than it should have. That was the result of me being undisciplined. I was feeling good that week and rode 33 miles on a day I was scheduled to ride 17. In retrospect, that may have been more of a mistake than I realized. But it was at the end of this block that my training plan really fell apart. The reasons for that were threefold:

1. I had a bunch of extra, unexpected babysitting to do. (Babysitting takes precedence over even a 75th birthday ride.)
2. There was a heatwave which made it unwise for a 75 year old to ride on some days.
3. The Art of Survival left me more tired than I expected and it took me longer than I expected to recover from that to a point where I felt I could ride a metric century.

These three things are not mutually exclusive, of course. The extra babysitting could have generated fatigue that contributed to my slow recovery, for example. The other thing that could have contributed to that slow recovery was the extra riding four weeks earlier, mentioned above. The result of all this is that I failed to ride a metric century four weeks after The Art of Survival and then again at five weeks. At that point, I was extremely discouraged, I was 90% convinced that I was not going to be able to do the Birthday Ride. What changed that was that one week later, six weeks after the Art of Survival and three weeks before my 75th birthday, I woke up one morning feeling pretty good. I decided to drive out to Shoreline Lake with no preconceptions to do a little scouting and to see just how good I felt. In the end, I rode 61 miles without undue fatigue. At this point, the Birthday Ride was back on, but how to train with three weeks to go? The following week, I rode the first, easy week of my Metric a Month schedule - which is what I should have ridden after the Art of Survival but didn't. Although I hadn't found the 61 mile ride tiring at the time, I felt quite tired during that week - I was having the same trouble with slow recovery as I had had during the previous five weeks. So instead of moving to a harder schedule for the second week, I rode the easy week of that schedule again. As I listened to my body, I had the feeling I was finally recovering from my solo metric century just in time for my Birthday Ride, suggesting this adjustment was a good one.

How Did It Go?

The day was magnificent both as a bike ride and as a birthday celebration. My son Michael decided to join me on the ride. We began by riding 45 miles southwest from Shoreline Park and back before stopping at the delightful restaurant in the park for lunch. My sister and brother-in-law. my son Matthew and his son Graham (age 2), and Michael's wife Robynn and their two children Julia (age 8) and Elliott (age 6) met us there and we had a delightful lunch, including a slice of birthday cake complete with a 75th birthday decoration provided by my cousin Rebecca. Michael and I then did a 3 mile loop around Shoreline Lake with Julia and Elliott so they could be participants in the ride. They are beginning cyclists and so found that loop just enough of a challenge to be exciting. Then Michael and I rode northeast to just past Cooley Landing and back which brought us to 69.7 miles total. We finished things off with two more laps 

around the 3 mile lake loop to reach our goal of 75 miles.

I felt comfortable and strong during almost all of the ride, it was only at the very end that I began to feel some fatigue. However, by the time I got home and took a shower, I was exhausted, a feeling that lasted through the following day. I am definitely riding a recovery schedule for the week after this ride!

My goal for this ride was that it should feel special. During the weeks before the ride when I was feeling like it might not happen, everyone I talked with urged me to scale back my ambitions rather than abandon the ride entirely. These suggestions ranged from riding 75 kilometers (47 miles) to making the visually minor adjustment of reducing it from 75 miles to 7.5 miles. None of these would have felt special. This 75 mile long ride was the longest ride I have done in over 10 years, the longest I have done since moving to California. That's special! Between the challenge of the ride, the delightful lunch, and the participation of my family, I cannot think of a better way to recognize this very special birthday.

Moderate vs. Vigorous Exercise

 

I have two reasons for riding my bike on a regular schedule. The less important reason is to be ready for long distance fun rides with my friends. The more important reason is for my health. What is the advice of the Medical Community for how much aerobic exercise (e.g. bicycle riding) I should do? Pretty universally, the Medical Community recommends a minimum of 150 minutes a week of "Moderate" exercise or 75 minutes a week of "Vigorous" exercise. These can be mixed and matched, e.g. one can meet that recommendation with 50 minutes of Vigorous exercise and 50 minutes of Moderate Exercise. This is a minimum recommendation. The ideal is twice that, 300 minutes a week of Moderate Exercise or 150 minutes a week of Vigorous Exercise in any combination. The key issue for me is the definition of Moderate and Vigorous Exercise. Originally, I kept things simple by assuming that all my cycling constituted Moderate Exercise. However, after looking at the guidance provided by various branches of the medical community as to what constituted Moderate and Vigorous, I felt like that was a very conservative assumption, that much of my cycling was at the Vigorous level. About 2012 I started collecting various heart rate zone systems. One of them was one that defined Moderate and Vigorous exercise in terms of heart rate, and it came from a source I trusted, the Mayo Clinic. That system said that Moderate Exercise is 50 to 70% Maximum Heart Rate and that Vigorous Exercise is 70 to 85% Maximum Heart Rate. If I use an estimate of 180 for my Maximum Heart Rate, the Moderate exercise zone goes from 90 to 125 beats per minute and the Vigorous from 126 to 153 beats per minute. Because so much of my riding was at a heart rate in the Vigorous zone, and because my recovery rides, easy rides from a training perspective, qualified as Moderate Exercise, I found it easy to reach the recommended amount of aerobic exercise. Recently, I went back to the Mayo website to confirm some aspects of this classification and I found that they had revised their recommendations; they now use a different set of  zone definitions. Using that new system and my maximum heart rate of 180 beats per minute results in Moderate exercise being 125 to 147 bpm and Vigorous being 147 to 164 bpm. This is a huge difference. This means not only are my Recovery Rides no longer Moderate Exercise and thus no longer count towards my 300 minutes but also that a significant fraction of my Zone 2 rides don't count either. Further, very little of my riding qualifies as Vigorous. To be honest, even before seeing these new recommendations I had been worrying that the old set of zones seemed a bit too easy. However, the second set of zones definitely seem much too hard. Not only would they make it difficult to impossible for me to meet the health guidelines, I would have to deviate significantly from the carfully thought out and extensively tested training plans I am currently following to even try to do so.

What accounts for the enormous change in the guidance the Mayo Clinic offers to Americans trying to figure out how best to exercise? This change is the result of Mayo switching from Percent Maximum Heart Rate to Percent Heart Rate Reserve for calculating the boundaries of of Moderate and Vigorous exercise. What is heart rate reserve? It is the difference between resting heart rate and maximum heart rate. For me, my maximum heart rate is 180 bpm and my resting heart rate is 70 bpm so my heart rate reserve is 110 bpm. The way the new method works is that heart rate reserve is multiplied by appropriate percentages and then the resting heart rate is added back. Using the percentages in the latest recommendations from Mayo, Moderate and Vigorous exercise are 50% to 70% and 70% to 85%, respectively, then the boundaries for the new system are:

(50% x 110) + 70 = 125 bpm
(70% x 110) + 70 = 147 bpm
(85% x 110) + 70 = 164 bpm.

But where did Mayo get these percentages? Why should they be the same as for the old Maximum Heart Rate system? Spoiler alert: I think the whole thing was the result of a misunderstanding by the Mayo Clinic and should be ignored. Who am I to accuse the Mayo Clinic of "a misunderstanding" especially after describing Mayo in this very post as a source I trust? Clearly I have to defend that charge, and in addition, I have to accept responsibility for my part in this confusion. I do consider the Mayo Clinic one of the most prestigious and trustworthy institutions in the medical establishment. The problem is, the medical establishment is really good at some things and less good at others, nutrition and exercise being areas in which the medical community is less good. My mistake was thinking that the Mayo Clinic would be an exception to these limitations, I put more trust in them with regards to exercise than I should have. The first thing that should have given me pause is their suggestion of using an age-determined estimate for maximum heart rate. In their old recommendations, they suggested the classic estimator of:

Maximum Heart Rate = 220 - Age

For me, that would be 220 - 74 = 146 bpm. Given that I routinely hit heart rates of over 160 bpm and that, about a year and a half ago, I reached a heart rate of 176 bpm, this is absurd. For their new recommendation, they suggest a more modern formula: 

Maximum Heart Rate = 208 - (0.7 x Age)

For me, that would be 220 - (0.7 x 74) = 156 bpm, a bit better but still absurd. 

Wikipedia notes that although these kinds of formulae are fairly good at estimating the average heart rate of a population, individual athletes can have maximum heart rates that are 30 bpm higher or lower than that average. For me that would be 116 to 176 for the first formula and 126 to 186 for the second. The fact that Mayo did not discuss or allow for this should have alerted me to their lack of sophistication. In fact, even back in 2012, I rejected the advice of Mayo on how to determine maximum heart rate but then failed to be as skeptical of the rest of their recommendation. It was only when their advice changed so dramatically that I called the entirety of their recommendations into question. What was the basis for their new recommendation?

When I researched Heart Rate Reserve, I found that it is associated with a Norwegian exercise scientist by the name of Martti J. Karvonen. Karvonen himself proposed definitions for Moderate and Vigorous exercise which, like Mayo's new definitions, use Heart Rate Reserve, but uses significantly different percentages to define the zones: 40% to 60% for Moderate Intensity and 60% to 90% for Vigorous Intensity. For me, that works out to 114 to 136 bpm and 137 to 169 bpm, respectively. Interestingly, these ranges are close to the definition of Hughes Zone 2 and Zones 3 + 4, respectively, and they match the recommendations of both the American College of Sports Medicine (ACSM) and the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) which the recommendations of Mayo do not.

Perhaps Mayo was simply the wrong choice of an institution. Perhaps I should follow the ACSM either directly or via the larger entities that pick up their advice, organizations like the CDC. One reason not to do that is that both the ACSM and the CDC use one of those age related formulae (220 - age, 208 - 0.7 x age) to determine maximum heart rate, an approach in which I do not believe and which does not work for me. Besides Wikipedia, many coaches object to this approach as well. Why then is the medical establishment so in love with these formulae? I don't know, but if I had to guess, I would say the medical community would defend themselves by saying that direct measurement of maximum heart rate is extremely difficult and even dangerous. In order to not let best be the enemy of good, they went with the less accurate but much easier and safer formulae above. They might acknowledge that I am a patient for which these formulae do not work but then note that there are many patients for which they do and so they have to reluctantly sacrifice me in the interest of helping the majority of patients.

But what is the scientific evidence in favor of any of this? I have researched this and as best I can tell there is little to no scientific basis for assigning any heart rate ranges to the Moderate and Vigorous levels of exercise. The medical community believes there are lots of health benefits that result from aerobic exercise; the ability to complete everyday tasks, reduction of depression, for example but the main benefit that is studied is reduction of "premature" death. The word "premature" here might seem a little confusing but what it really boils down to is how long you will live. If you engage in aerobic exercise you will, on average, live longer. Estimates of how much longer vary wildly (5 months to 7 years) and that wild variation is both interesting and humbling but is beside the point for this post. What we are focusing on here are how Intense that exercise should be, and, given an Intensity, how much should one ideally do? The official guidelines suggest that, ideally, one should do 300 minutes per week of Moderate exercise or 150 minutes a week of Vigorous exercise to maximize lifespan. This is based on a wide range of research, but perhaps the most relevant is that which asks people how long and how intensely they exercise. So finally we get down to it: what measure of Intensity is used in such studies? The most common one is based on the kind of exercise: walking, jogging, running, swimming, cycling, etc. Walking is Moderate. Jogging or Running is Vigorous. And most interestingly, all Cycling is counted as Vigorous exercise! I truly believe that the authors of these studies are well aware of how crude a measure this is, and once again, that results from not letting best be the enemy of good. As imperfect as this classification is, it is the best data that is available. The reason there are no scientific studies of this kind that use heart rate to classify Intensity is because so few people who might be in these studies have heart rate data. I do not believe there is any scientific evidence supporting the assignment of heart rates to the medical Intensity zones of Moderate and Vigorous, the best one can hope for is common sense. My common sense tells me that the new Mayo estimates are far from correct. For now, I am going to use Coach Hughes' Zone 2 as my definition of Moderate Exercise and Zones 3 and above for Vigorous exercise. In addition, I will use the results of Gillen et al. to define an Interval Session consisting of six all-out 20 second sprints separated by two minute recovery periods as providing the same benefit as 90 minutes of Moderate exercise. I am far from certain that these definitions are accurate and I am open to revising them should I encounter reliable evidence suggesting better definitions, but I feel like they are the best I can do for now.

While researching for this post, I came across those who dismiss heart rate as an acceptable way to discover Intensity Zones and who advocate in favor of ventilatory threshold,  respiratory exchange ratio, or blood lactate levels. If they are experienced coaches who have used this kind of data to improve the results obtained by their athletes, then I take them very seriously. If, on the other hand, they are advocating for using these measurements to establish the boundaries of Moderate and Vigorous exercise on purely theoretical grounds, then I will remain skeptical. If they want to convince me, they need to provide actual experimental evidence supporting their arguments. I don't believe there is any such evidence but very much hope to be proven wrong.

 I would like to propose a contrarian hypothesis of my own: 

"The bulk of the increase in longevity that comes from aerobic exercise comes from the fact that such exercise strengthens the heart muscle. Thus, heart rate is the perfect thing to measure to study the benefits of aerobic exercise. However, there are no Moderate and Vigorous zones, rather there is a continuum. The higher the heart rate during exercise, the faster the benefit is accrue and the relationship between heart rate and the benefit per minute is a smooth (if not necessarily linear) curve. It is your choice, cycle slowly for many hours or sprint all out for a few minutes, it's all the same." 

Do I really believe this hypothesis? No, it is a straw man argument and, at best, an oversimplification. Very few people read this blog and I doubt that any of them have any influence in the exercise and health branch of biomedical research but if this post were being studied at the highest levels of the health establishment, what would I want them to do with this hypothesis? I would want them to design and execute experiments to test it, not as a true or false binary, but to ask the question if there is any truth to it at all, and if so, how much?

So where do I go from here? Nowhere, as it happens. In all my years of cycling, I have never changed how or how much I cycle to try to improve its health benefits. My hypothesis has been that the most important thing for my health is to keep cycling, so I do whatever keeps me motivated. Perhaps there has been some thought that "the more cycling, the better" and every scrap of research I have ever come across has supported that. Of course, that cycling needs to be sustainable, overtraining in the short run leads to less cycling in the long run so, especially as an old man, I need to avoid that, but with that in mind I will follow the advice of the famous medical research scientist, Eddie Merckx: "Ride lots."

Preparing for Survival

 

...the Art of Survival Metric Century that is. This post can be seen as a companion to my 2019 post "Training for the Golden Hills" and could have had a similar title but, for better or for worse, I tried to be clever.

I have ridden The Art of Survival three times now, in 2018, 2019, and now in 2024. In 2020, the event was cancelled due to COVID. In 2021, I had trouble training for the ride so decided not to go, a decision I still question. In 2022, I feel like I was as prepared for this ride as I have ever been but didn't go at the last minute due to severe weather. 2023 is the year my back decided to get much worse and so I couldn't go again. For 2024, I desperately wanted to get my cycling back on track and successfully completing The Art of Survival was an important milestone on the way to doing that. I did attend and I did finish but somehow that was not enough. Why not? Or to ask that question in a different way, what do I mean when I say successfully completing the ride?

In my post about Training for the Golden Hills, I defined success as "a comfortable ride from beginning to end" and this year's Art of Survival certainly was not that! To be fair, a lot of my discomfort had nothing to do with my training. This year's ride was extremely windy. Many of the roads on this ride suffer from frost damage which results in cracks across the road and riding over them felt like someone hitting my handlebars with a sledgehammer about once a second. And then there were the swarms of insects. Yes, I am something of a whiner, but as I was enjoying the excellent lunch provided at the end of the ride I noticed I was far from the only one complaining about these things. Some of my discomfort resulted from the effort required to get to the ride. The seven hours of driving followed by moving my luggage and bike in and out of a second story hotel room left my back very sore. Cycling does not make my back worse but neither does it reduce any back pain that might be there. On top of that were other aches and pains of old age, my left knee, my right shoulder, etc. A final issue was psychological. If I perform well on a ride the happiness produced by that success makes that ride a lot more fun. I did not feel like I was performing well on this ride.

All three times I have ridden The Art of Survival I have ridden it with my High School riding buddy, Roger. In 2018 and 2019 I rode a normal bike (not an eBike) and both years I had trouble keeping up with Roger but I did finish under my own steam. For the 2022 Ride the Rogue, Roger and his brother-in-law David suggested that I ride my eBike to make it easier to keep up and that worked. Most of the time I rode with the eAssist turned off but when we got to a hill that made it hard for me to keep up I would switch it on. Because the eAssist was mostly off, I still felt some satisfaction from the ride. This year I hoped for a similar experience. In my optimistic moments, I even hoped I might not use eAssist at all. What actually happened was quite the opposite. I used the eAssist for almost all the ride and there were times I struggled to keep up with Roger even using eAssist. Although this was not physical discomfort, it was demoralizing and contributed to the lack of a feeling of success. After all, it was an electric motor that brought me to the finish, not my training.

But what does any of this have to do with the title of this post? How had I prepared for this ride and how did that preparation work out?  My training plan for the 7 weeks leading up to the ride was as close to a well thought out plan as I have managed in a very long time. As I result, I had hoped for a successful ride. There were, however, warning signs. The longest training ride I did in preparation for Art of Survival was 47 miles, 78% of the length of the ride which is plenty long, but I found it very difficult to complete and my average speed on that ride was low. Back in 2021 I decided not to attempt The Art of Survival because, although I completed a very similar 43 mile ride, my speed on that ride was only 11.2 miles per hour and I could not follow that up two weeks later with a 54 mile long ride. This year, my first 47 mile long ride was ridden at 11.3 miles per hour and two weeks later, although I completed a 46 mile long ride, I could not extend that ride to 57 miles as I had hoped I might. Thus, my successful training plan of 2024 looked a lot like my failed training plan of 2021. I was OK with that for several reasons. First, I thought I probably should have ridden Art of Survival in 2021. Second, my 46 mile long ride in 2024 was faster (11.6 miles per hour) and more comfortable than the ride two weeks earlier. Third, I have reconsidered the schedule I developed for The Golden Hills in 2019. I think a 55 mile long training ride is excessive as preparation for a Metric Century. To summarize, I think that it was the right decision to go ahead and ride this year and although my preparation was just fine, both the the length of my longest training ride and the speed I was riding were lower than in 2019 and so I think I can reasonably conclude my fitness was lower.

Why was my fitness lower? Starting with the most likely reason, I am 5 years older in 2024 than I was in 2019 and, at my age, that has to make a huge difference. All by itself, this could be the whole explanation for why I was more fit in 2019 than I am today. Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do about my age. Might there be contributing factors, something under my control? There are. In 2024, there was a lack of year around consistency in my training. Although the training schedules for 2019 and 2024 (shown above) look similar, some of that is an illusion. Seven weeks before The Art of Survival I began a very sensible training program but 10 weeks before that my fitness was very low because for the previous 18 weeks I did very little riding. Thus, as good as my 7 week program was, I was starting in a hole. My 2019 Golden Hills came at the end of a very active season and thus benefitted from that entire season of riding. In 2019, rather than starting in a hole, I was starting on a hilltop. To put that in concrete terms, I rode 3025 miles and averaged 338 minutes a week during the year before The Golden Hills but rode only 2625 miles and averaged only 283 minutes a week the year before Art of Survival. The good news is that I seem to be making some progress on this front, a topic for a future post. Finally, as good as my training during the 7 weeks before The Art of Survival were, there might be some room for improvement there as well. As just one approach towards that end, I continue to experiment with the Banister model of Form, Fitness, and Fatigue, most definitely a topic that needs to wait for a future post. Stay tuned.

50,000 Miles ... and now what?

This is my third round number of my miles posts. I posted The first one after I had completed 20,000 miles of riding. I started out that one with a quote from my wife: "You should be proud of yourself for sticking to cycling so long." That continues to be the most important thing about my cycling, that I have now stuck with it for more than 15 years. I believe that the impact of that consistent exercise has been enormously beneficial for my health. My second post came after 40,000 miles of riding. In that post, I predicted I would reach 50,000 miles in September of 2023. That was a bit optimistic, but I am extremely satisfied to have reached that milestone even if a bit late. 

Here is another optimistic prediction from that 40,000 mile post: "It is not impossible that, even riding against [the] headwind [of my old age], I might still be able to get a bit more fit than I am today." I no longer believe that is possible. Rather, I believe that I am engaged in a rearguard action to delay my decline and continue cycling in at least some form for as long as I can. 

Each of my three round number of mile posts have opened with a similar graph - my accumulated miles since I restarted cycling in August of 2008 through the present. For this one I added a trend line (in red) to help reveal times during those 15+ years when I have ridden more or less than average. Looking at my progress compared to that trend line, it is apparent that I am slowing down. Given that, how much longer can I keep this up? There is no way to know, of course, life just happens, but one can ask about the odds. A good starting point is to ask how much longer I might expect to live. Social Security provides a very basic prediction based only on my sex and current age and predicts I will live 12 more years, to age 86. To provide a more personalized and possibly more accurate prediction, I searched the Internet and found a government funded, peer reviewed (which is to say believable) research project at Boston University named Living To 100 that asked me a large number of questions about my weight, drinking, smoking, exercise, etc. Based on all this data about me, their algorithm also predicted I will live 12 more years, to an age of 86. But that is just an upper limit. It would be lovely if I could finish a bike ride, sit down by the side of the road, and peacefully pass into the hereafter, but the fates are seldom that kind. It is likely that I will be unable to continue cycling some time before the end of my life. 

To help me think about what the future might hold I have collected stats on all my previous 10,000 mile landmarks, whether I blogged about them or not, and then made some reasonable assumptions and projected forward to the next three 10,000 mile landmarks:

The key column in this table is the last, labelled Years. The more years it takes to complete 10,000 miles, the less riding I did on a per year basis. As can be seen on both the graph at the top of this post as well as in the table above, my first 10,000 miles were an outlier. One reason for that is, as I noted in my 20,000 mile post, the start of my second cycling career on 8/1/2008 was something of a false start. After cycling for about six months I stopped cycling for well over a year before restarting again on 5/3/2010. This long gap with almost no rides and thus almost no miles dramatically distorts the statistics. I tried a number of different ways of correcting for that and all of them make that first year less of an outlier, but in all cases the First 10,000 miles was slower than the Second 10,000 miles. From this I conclude that my cycling was improving during those first 10,000 miles. This is the second reason that the First 10,000 miles is an outlier: after that landmark, everything is downhill.

For each 10,000 miles (except for the first) the number of years required to complete those 10,000 miles is greater than the 10,000 miles before by about 6 months. To project what I might be able to do in the future, I assumed that trend would continue. Will I be able to reach a 6th 10,000 miles? There certainly aren't any guarantees, but barring any problems (a bit of an assumption at my age) it is certainly possible. How about a 7th? Should I be able to do that, I would count myself lucky indeed! I would say a 7th 10,000 miles is unlikely but not impossible. To complete an 8th 10,000 miles would require me to ride two years past the date projected for my death. Of course, the date of my death is impossible to predict precisely, and so nothing is impossible, but I am definitely not counting on reaching that milestone.

There are other reasons I believe my fitness is decreasing:

• From 2012 through 2015 my goal was 200 kilometer long rides. By 2018, I had lowered my goal to half that, 100 kilometer long rides. Of course, it is more complicated by that. By 2018 I had moved to hilly California from flat Texas and my goal was one 100 kilometer ride a month rather than one 200 kilometer long ride a year, but all things considered, I believe this was a step down in ambition.
• In 2021, I failed at even this less ambitious goal. I attempted to train for the Art of Survival Metric Century (100 kilometers) and fatigue prevented me from doing so. (I have blogged about that failure ad nauseum and may do so again.)
• In 2023 my back got worse. Although this does not affect my cycling directly, going for a ride is one of the most comfortable things I can do with regards to my back, but my back pain does create fatigue and thus inhibits my cycling indirectly.
• Recently, I realized my dream of riding a Metric Century a Month was never going to happen. Although this is not an event but rather the acknowledgement of a reality, I think I wouldn't have been driven to this acknowledgement except that I am no longer feeling as strong as I did when I first had that dream.

Cycling for Health

The primary reason I restarted cycling back in 2008 was because I realized my lack of aerobic exercise was threatening my health. The Medical community recommends I accumulate a minimum of 150 minutes a week of Moderate Intensity or 75 minutes of Vigorous Intensity aerobic exercise a week. Ideally they would have me accumulate twice that, 300 minutes Moderate or 150 minutes Vigorous Intensity a week. They also recommend that exercise be spread out over the week. For example, they suggest a 60 minute Moderate exercise session five days a week, with a recommended minimum of 3 days a week. For the purposes of this post, I am calling all my cycling Moderate Intensity even though I know that is not completely true. I am hoping it is a close enough approximation but will call out one case where I think that assumption might be problematic.

For the purposes of evaluating how my health-targeted cycling is going, I am going to look at two statistics: for what percentage of the weeks did I accumulate 150 or 300 minutes of cycling, and for what percentage of the weeks did I ride for 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, or 7 days? During my most recent landmark, 40,000 to 50,000 miles, I rode 150 or more miles during 78% of the weeks and 300 or more miles during 51% of the weeks. I did five or more rides during 39% of the weeks and three or more rides 77% of the weeks. So, not nothing but far from perfect.

Historically, I have not worried about riding for health per se, I figured my recreational riding should provide the health benefits I was seeking but is that true? My gut says yes but my annoying brain remains skeptical. I have blogged about the medical community's aerobic exercise recommendations a fair bit and plan to blog about it more in the future but very briefly, I take comfort from the following quotation from "Physical Activity Guidelines for Americans, 2nd edition" by The Department of Health and Human Services USA, 2018: "Some physical activity is better than none. Adults who sit less and do any amount of moderate-to-vigorous physical activity gain some health benefits." Similarly, I am inspired by the following quotation from the same source: "Additional health benefits are gained by engaging in physical activity beyond the equivalent of 300 minutes (5 hours) of moderate-intensity physical activity a week." So mostly I am going to go with my gut on this one. What I am doing is way better than nothing but I should continue to strive to bicycle as much as I can.

What does it mean, "mostly go with my gut"? Well, my brain has an important role to play here, and that is keeping me honest. One example of where this is an issue is the Recovery Rides on my trainer. One thing I hope to blog about in the future is the difficulty in distinguishing between Light, Moderate, and Vigorous aerobic exercise, but for the purposes of this post I am going to claim that those Recovery Rides are at an Intensity below Moderate so that I should not count them towards my health benefits. Unfortunately, the statistics I quote above do include them. At the time I was recording them, I believed they did count as Moderate exercise and now it would be too much work to go back and remove them. Does that mean I am doing even worse than I thought? Maybe not. Although I counted my Recovery Rides when I shouldn't have, I also ignored that part of my riding that is clearly qualifies as Vigorous or even HIIT. HIIT stands for High Intensity Interval Training. Here is what The Department of Health and Human Services (HHS) says about HIIT: "Recent research has examined high-intensity interval training (HIIT), which may provide similar reductions in cardiovascular disease risk factors as those observed with continuous moderate- intensity physical activity." HSS goes on to say that research remains to be done on exactly how much HIIT should count. The research I am reading says that, whereas minutes of Vigorous exercise counts double, minutes of HIIT may count as much as 45 times as much as Moderate exercise. So, for the purposes of this post I am going to hope that erroneously counting my Recovery rides is offset by failing to fully credit the parts of my rides that are Vigorous or HIIT. Of course, this assumes that I don't over-use my trainer (see below.)

Finally, how does my success during my last 10,000 miles compare to my previous 10,000 mile landmarks? During none of the five 10,000 mile landmarks was I perfect; I did not cycle 300 miles or more and 5 days or more for 100% of their weeks. The graph below illustrates how much I did ride for the last four landmarks:

I didn't include my first 10,000 miles on this graph because, as noted above, it was an outlier and including it made the graph harder to understand. The red line on the graph is average minutes per week, equivalent to the how many years it takes me to finish 10,000 miles already noted above as a declining indicator, and it is indeed declining. This is related but not identical to the percent of weeks in which I rode greater than 300 miles. The key difference is that, for the latter metric, it doesn't matter by how much I exceed 300 minutes whereas for the average, it very much does. My longest week, the week of my first 200 kilometer long ride, I accumulated 909 minutes while riding 197 miles. This week dramatically affects the average but counts no more than a week with 301 minutes towards the percent of weeks >300 minutes.

Looking at this graph, it is the case that my second 10,000 miles had the best score in all categories, but for the third, fourth, and fifth, each landmark may be better in one but worse in another. Especially relevant to this post, my most recent 10,000 miles had the worst score for percent weeks with greater than 300 minutes, but a pretty decent score for number of weeks with five or more rides; my consistency is good but my rides are too short. I feel like the overall message is that my performance on these metrics is declining overall but with some ups and downs along the way.

Cycling for Fun

I reached the 40,000 mile landmark during September of 2020, just about the time I moved from a relatively flat part of San Carlos to the well named Emerald Hills where I now live. This was during the peak of the COVID-19 pandemic and as a result all 2020 cycling events were cancelled. However, that didn't mean I had no fun. Rather, it meant the fun I had was that of exploring a new neighborhood and figuring out how to deal with its challenges, especially the hills. After the move, I could continue to ride my two favorite GoTo rides, my Alpine and Alpine-Cañada rides, almost unchanged. As for new rides, my son shared one of his favorite rides with me, the Huddart Park ride. It is a delightful ride in many ways, low traffic, amazing scenery, and at first I did one of these rides a week, but it is also a very challenging ride and I found I was building up fatigue and, as a result, started looking for alternatives. I tried coasting downhill from my new home to my old haunts in the flats of the East Bay to do some of my favorite rides there but always ran into the same problem. The hills back to my house from the east are all very steep and this converted what was supposed to be an easy ride into a hard one. (The reason the Alpine and Alpine-Cañada rides work is because they bring me home from the west where the hills are less steep.) Similarly, when I tried to explore my new neighborhood (one of my favorite things to do on a bike) the very steep hills made that extremely challenging to impossible, even for my Bianchi Volpe, my bike with the lowest gears. In fact, the new neighborhood had reduced my formerly respectable stable of bikes to a single usable bike, the Volpe being the only one with gears even close to low enough for the neighborhood. I knew I needed to find an easier ride. My first attempt was the Lake Loop. I rode that ride so many times I became a Legend on Strava. The ride itself was fine, but getting home from it was still too hard. Several years ago I had purchased a trainer but found it so boring I didn't end up using it very much. I set my trainer up in my bedroom with my Surly Cross Check dedicated to it, making it super convenient to use, I just hop on and go. It is still boring, but it allows for a very easy ride to help balance all the hills and so I find myself using it a couple of times a week. 

In early 2021, my son decided that I needed an eBike. Because of the pandemic, bikes were hard to come by, but he found an exceptionally good bike that I could get right away, an Orbea Gain. It arrived March 24, 2021 and by March 28th I had it set up and completed my first ride, that exploration of the neighborhood which that eBike finally made possible. The other thing it made possible was keeping up with riders who are much faster than I am, my son and my friends Roger and Dave for example. One of the most fun set of rides I did on that bike was one we called the Hot Chocolate Ride. The pandemic was still in full force so eating indoors at a restaurant was out and restaurants had not yet had time to build out the outdoor seating which they all have now. However, there was one restaurant that had always used outdoor seating and so Sundays, we would ride over the (steep!) hills to that restaurant, Michael on his normal bike, his wife Robynn on a cargo eBike with Julia and Elliott aboard, and me on the Orbea. When we started these rides, I was on my Volpe but Michael and Robynn had to slow down so I could keep up. Once I had my Orbea, they could ride as fast as they liked and I could keep up with them.

By 2021,  Art of Survival had come back after the pandemic, but when I attempted to train for it, fatigue prevented me from doing so, something about which I have blogged ad nauseum and which I may blog about even more in the future. I concluded at the time that this failure was due to overtraining and reacted accordingly. As time goes by, I become more and more skeptical of that conclusion and worry that my response to that hypothetical overtraining may be doing more harm than good, an issue to which I will return later in this post. One consequence of that was between the middle of 2020 when I moved to the start of 2022, with the exception of the Hot Chocolate rides, the only ride I did with anyone else, that I did not do all alone, was one ride with my friends Paul and Fringy.

2022 was a very good year. I began by riding with Paul and Fringy in February, April and July. In March, I completed a ride on my Hetchins with the local Classical and Vintage bike group. At the end of April/beginning of May I attended Eroica California. I successfully prepared to ride the Art of Survival at the end of May, but then couldn't attend due to bad weather.  Instead, I was able to attend Ride the Rogue in September of that year. This was also the year I got my TranyaGo sports watch and restarted tracking my heart rate.

2023 started out as another bad year due to a combination of my back getting worse and coincidentally, some severe dental problems. These exhausted me and my riding suffered. This reached a nadir in May, making attending Art of Survival impossible. Starting in July, my riding got better so I might have hoped to attend Ride the Rogue, but I had a scheduling conflict. By October, my riding again got worse due to a random combination of interruptions, weather, and illnesses. January 2024 was a continuation of that poor performance, but by February I started to improve again. If this continues, I am hoping to attend Art of Survival this year.

Final Thoughts

My gut is telling me that the big picture presented by the time course of my 50,000 miles of cycling is that I am getting older and that my ability to ride is fading as a result. My brain is not entirely convinced. One argument that my brain makes is to point out a possible wrong turn in my training that I may have made back in 2011. One explanation of my poor performance that year was overtraining and I really leaned into that one possibility. Two things I did which my brain is questioning are 1) I started overusing my Trainer, and especially riding too often at too low an Intensity. These are not training rides. One or two of these a week after a strenuous ride might help me harvest the benefits of that strenuous ride, but in excess of that, represent junk riding of no significant benefit, and yet I am counting them in my training statistics, giving myself a false sense of progress. 2) I started riding my long rides more slowly. There were logical reasons for doing that, the 80:20 rule (aka Polarized Training aka Zone 2 training) recommended by many coaches, for example. What my brain argues is that maybe I overemphasized the 80 and underemphasized the 20, that when I made my long rides easier I was not careful to make sure I included enough fast rides and to make sure that they were fast enough. Similarly, when I made my long rides slower, maybe I should have made them longer at the same time. Now my brain will concede that this is just a possibility, that I definitely need to listen to my body, and when my body says it is tired, I should act accordingly. In retrospect, however, even my gut will concede that I really overdid the easy trainer rides. In summary, maybe I should make sure that when I am riding less it is because I am tired not because I am lazy. Who knows, Paris-Brest-Paris* for my 90th birthday? (Just kidding.)

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* Paris-Brest-Paris is perhaps the most prestigious group ride there is. It is about 750 miles long and must be completed in 90 hours to qualify for an award. Sleeping is allowed but it does count against your time so sleep deprivation is common. It is tough, even for a very fit rider in their prime.

Testing My Calculation of Load

Most coaches recommend keeping a training log, a list of rides completed along with their length. Most coaches also recommend measuring the length of those rides in minutes rather than miles. One reason for preferring minutes is illustrated by a consideration of two rides of equal mileage, one hilly, one flat. Imagine riding these two rides, riding each with the same intensity. To do that, you will need to slow down going up the hills of the hilly ride (and no, the downhills will not make up for the uphills.) That means the hilly ride will take longer and, as a result of being longer in minutes, leave you more tired (and more fit). However, if you track miles in your training log, they will look the same. Tracking minutes makes up for that and therefore is a better metric. However, let’s change the scenario a bit. After the above rides you decide to see how fast you can complete the hilly ride. Because you moderated your effort the first time, imagine it took an hour to complete the ride. When you repeat it going all out, imagine that it only took you fifty minutes. Obviously the faster ride will leave you more tired (and more fit) than the slower ride, but by tracking minutes, you get less credit for it in your training log. Aren’t coaches aware of this problem? What do they suggest we do about it? Coaches are fully aware of this fact (they would not call it a problem) and what they would say about it is that every ride should be ridden at a planned level of effort based on a well thought out training plan so there would never be a reason to compare the faster and slower rides. Exercise scientists have different goals and would take a different approach, they would say that level of effort does need to be taken into account and have developed quantitative measures for doing so. For better or for worse, I decided to start tracking a quantitative measure of the effort of my rides in my training log. To explain what I mean by that, let me start with some definitions.

Fitness is the goal of my training. It is the process of getting faster and stronger and developing more endurance. Fitness is a very complicated topic which I will describe only briefly towards the end of this post. Training also has a dark side and that is Fatigue. When I ride I develop Fatigue such that if I attempt to ride again too soon, my performance would be worse than before I trained. However, if I rest, Fatigue declines and Fitness increases and if I ride again after the proper amount of rest, my performance will be improved. Excessive training can even lead to Overtraining, Fatigue that won’t go away. Thus, it is important to do the right amount of training and not too much. How is training measured? The term I use as a measure of how much training has been done is Load.

Load = Volume x Intensity

Volume is how long a ride lasts in minutes. Intensity is much more complicated, but roughly corresponds to how hard a ride is, hard because it is ridden fast or because the route over which it is ridden is hilly, for example. Perhaps the most common way Coaches talk about Intensity is in terms of Training Zones. Different coaches use different Training Zone systems. The coach I follow, Coach John Hughes, uses a 7 zone system, where Zone 1 is the easiest, the lowest level of Intensity and Zone 7 is the hardest. The boundaries of Training Zones can be defined by a variety of indicators including Heart Rate, Perceived Exertion, Power, Blood Lactate, and Rate of Breathing. In this post I will only be discussing Heart Rate. Dividing Intensity into Zones is merely a convenience, Intensity is continuous. For example, the Intensity of the very top of Zone 2 is virtually identical to the Intensity of the very bottom of Zone 3. Training zones are a great way for coaches to communicate training plans to their athletes, but are not quantitative, they do not allow one to calculate a quantitative measure of Load. In the scientific literature, the term used as a measure of training is TRIMP (which stands for TRaining IMPulse). Confusingly, there are several different versions of TRIMP, each corresponding to a different way of calculating that number (which is part of the reason I prefer to use the term Load.) Which version should I use? In the end, I decided I didn’t like any of them and developed my own. My discussion of the various versions of TRIMP and the development of my own version is described in my blog post of August 2021 entitled “TRIMP, Intensity, and Fatigue”. How I decided to use the Average Heart Rate for a ride provided by my TranyaGo sports watch to calculate the Load (my version of a TRIMP score) for that ride is described in my blog post of April 2023 entitled “Improved Training Load Estimate”. Between October 3, 2022 and March 3, 2024 I calculated and recorded that Load in my training log. Three to four months ago, I decided to review that data and blog about how that worked out. After two months of writing and deleting drafts of that post, I gave up and wrote a blog post on how the attempt to do so had given me “Blogger’s Block”. Where did I go wrong?

I’m not sure I did go wrong. I often say on this blog that in order to think, I write, and I believe there was a lot of thinking to be done on this topic and thus the writing took a long time. What made it feel frustrating is that the process of this kind of writing is not linear. I write down an idea, think about it, decide it is wrong, and then delete it and start over. It feels like I am making no progress, that I am stuck, that each step forward is followed by a step backwards, but that feeling is missing the fact that the thinking is the goal, not the writing, and thinking often involves exploring lots of blind alleys before finding the true path. (Well, maybe not the true path, but a better path.) But what made the thinking so hard?

Consider this whole project an experiment the purpose of which is to test the following hypothesis: Does the Load score I generated by using the Average Heart Rate for a ride provided by my TranyaGo Sports Watch provide a better measure of the Fatigue generated by my training than minutes of riding?

Something else I often say on this blog is that I shouldn’t let Best be the enemy of Good. The fact of the matter is that I do not have enough data of high enough quality to determine with a high degree of confidence if that hypothesis is true or false. However, as as result of looking at the Load data in my training log and of all the thinking I did while preparing this post, I am of the opinion that the original way I calculated Load was probably not more useful than minutes of Riding, but with minor modifications I could come up with a score that does have a reasonable likelihood of being better.

How could Load not be better than minutes? As I noted at the beginning of this post, it seems like this should be a no-brainer. Tracking Load by tracking minutes completely ignores the difference between a hard ride and an easy one. If one could reliably determine how hard a ride is, its Intensity, that would be true. Unfortunately, there is no consensus as to how to determine Intensity, or even what Intensity means, or if Intensity is even one thing. For the sake of the Good and the purposes of this post, let’s ignore Best and assume Intensity is one thing. If one ignores Intensity, the Load of a fast ride will be underestimated. If, however, the Intensity of that fast ride is overestimated, so will the Load of that fast ride. Because there is no limit as to how badly one can overestimate that Intensity, Load can end up being a worse measure of Fatigue than minutes. Thus, the first question I asked when I started working on this post is, does the estimate of Intensity I am using seem reasonable? To answer that question, I decided to simplify things by only comparing rides on the same route, on the same bicycle, etc. These are the rides I have named the Cañada rides, a 17 mile ride with 1,100 feet of climbing. The lowest heart rate I have recorded on those rides is 113 beats per minute (BPM). The highest is 145 BPM. Using the equation from my Improved Training Load post, I calculated that the 145 BPM ride had an Intensity 6.8 times that of the 113 BPM ride. The effect of that on Fatigue (Load)  is less than that because the faster ride is completed in fewer minutes so the Load of the faster ride is 5.7 times that of the slower ride. This is completely unreasonable. Yes, I am more tired after the fast ride than the slow one, but it is not five to six times more tired!  I might believe that the Fatigue of the fast ride is twice as much as the slow, though one and a half times seems even more likely. This is where I got stuck. I have spent the last three months trying to figure out where I went wrong. The good news is that in the process of trying to explain these discrepancies, I clarified my thinking on a whole range of issues. Here are some of them:

1. Heart Rate depends on many things in addition to Intensity. A few examples include worry, caffeine, and Fatigue. Thus, Heart Rate can give misleading Intensity measures. In my experience, Average Heart Rate is fairly reliable, my Average Heart Rate recorded for most rides seems to be a pretty good indicator of Intensity, but when I selected the rides with the highest and lowest Average Heart Rates, I was selecting the outliers, those rides where Heart Rate was most likely not to be a good indicator. To get around this problem, I selected my ten slowest rides and my ten fastest rides and compared the Intensity calculated from the Average Heart Rates recorded for those two groups of rides. There was only a 2.2-fold difference, much more reasonable. (The average heart rates were 137 and 120 BPM.) Is this the solution to my problem? Maybe, in part at least. This idea occurred to me very recently. Had I thought of it early on, I might have avoided the whole “blogger’s block” thing, and that would have been unfortunate. As I struggled to explain why my Intensity estimates were so far off, I reconsidered every aspect of how I calculated my Intensity and many good insights resulted.
   
   
2. I stand by my post on Trimp, Intensity, and Fatigue. If I were to write it today, I would change some of the numbers a bit but the overall conclusions of that post, that the commonly used TRIMP calculations are not consistent with coaches’ recommendations or athletes experiences, would not change. What I am reconsidering is how the conclusions from that post ought to affect my day to day cycling. That is a work in progress and may be a topic for a future post, but I have nothing more to say about that in this post.
   
   
3. In my post on Improved Training Load Estimate, I proposed to calculate Intensity from Average Heart Rate by using this equation:
   
   Intensity = 0.00065 x e^{(0.06 x heart-rate)}
   
   As noted in Point 1 above, I don’t think this was a ridiculous choice, but I am not sure if it is better or worse than just using minutes as a measure of Load and I also think I can do better. Again, that is a work in progress and is likely to be the topic of a future post, but I have nothing more to say about that in this post.
   
   
4. In that same post, I noted that Average Heart Rate for a ride is not a good way to estimate the Load of an Interval Session. More recently, I have noticed that some of my rides look a bit like Interval Sessions in that they contain short stretches of very high Intensity embedded in a long ride of more moderate Intensity. This might be important because such rides might be generating more Fatigue than would be predicted from the Average Heart Rate of that ride. I did several such rides after my move from a flatter neighborhood to a hillier one in 2020 and this might be what prevented me from riding the 2021 Art of Survival. This is not even a work in progress, but rather the seed of an idea that might or might not develop into something.
   
   
5. Different rides have different effects on my fitness even if they have the same Load. One might primarily improve endurance while another might primarily improve speed. Thus, I should not substitute one ride for another just based on Load. For that reason, I have started adding a sentence to my Training Log explaining, for each ride, the purpose of that ride, why I chose to ride it instead of a different ride.

Where does this leave me? As of March 4, I have changed my training log to emphasize minutes over Load. I am still tracking Load but I am experimenting with different ways of calculating that Load. Once this settles down, I’ll post about it. 

 

RIP Coach Hughes

 

A few days ago, I stumbled across the obituary of Coach John Hughes. As readers of this blog know, Coach Hughes was, of all the fine coaches out there, the coach I chose to follow. I never met him or even communicated with him, I just read his books and articles. 

I discovered Hughes on the Google group randon, a group devoted to randonneuring (long distance challenge bicycle rides.) I liked what he said there and so purchased the book he co-wrote with Dan Kehlenbach, "Distance Cycling." My first reaction to "Distance Cycling" was lukewarm at best - I gave it three out of five stars on Goodreads. Over time, however, it grew on me until it became the only training book I used. From the references in 'Distance Cycling" I discovered Hughes' publications on Road Bike Rider website and eventually those publications replaced "Distance Cycling" as my primary reference for bicycle training.

What was it about Coach Hughes which made me select him from amongst the truly amazing collection of coach-authors I might have followed, Coach Joe Friel as one major example? He certainly was not the most polished, the most authoritative, nor the most cutting edge. Most of his advice he took from other coaches, Joe Friel for one, a fact I know because he meticulously referenced the ideas he used. I am a scientist, and Joe Friel (for example) tries to make his training advice as scientific as possible, something Coach Hughes did not do. One of the first thing that attracted me to Coach Hughes was the breadth of his advice. At the time I discovered him, he was one of the few coaches to provide advice for randonneuring, a sport I had just taken up. Actually, the very first thing that caught my eye, back when I discovered Hughes on randon, the thing that persuaded me to purchase "Distance Cycling", was his advice for older cyclists, a group that very much included me. There are plenty of books with titles like  "Cycling Past Fifty". but none of them seemed to describe cyclists like me, only Coach Hughes managed to do that. This brings me to the second and perhaps more important reason I followed John Hughes. For Coach Hughes, cycling was personal and totally real. He and I were very close in age (he was about three months older than I and yes I get the implications of that for my mortality) and my favorite of his articles were those about himself, the practical impacts of aging, mistakes he had made, and the consequences of those mistakes. What I loved about those articles was how honest, real, and slightly sad they were. The final thing that drew me to Hughes was his flexibility and humility. One of his favorite expressions was "Remember, everyone is an experiment of one." By that he meant that every cyclist needs to decide for themselves which pieces of training advice work for them and which just don't.

So, is it time for me to find a new coach? I don't see why. I think there is enough wisdom in Hughes collected works to last me for however long I have left. That said, I will miss you John Hughes, it will be lonelier out there on the road knowing you no longer are with us. 

Blogger's Block

The Zombie, failing for the third time to complete a blog post.

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I tend to write my blog posts ahead of when I need them. At present, I have twelve draft posts at various stages of completion. As a new month comes around, I pick a draft that seems the most ready and complete it for that month. In between, I work on various of these drafts as ideas come to me. Sometimes one of these drafts reaches final form before the beginning of a month such that all I have to do is post it. Almost as easy, sometimes when I turn my attention to an unfinished draft, it comes together pretty much the way I expected it to when I started it. However, as I have mentioned on this blog before, one of the ways I think is to write, and that means that sometimes I pick a draft to finish for the month and as I try to complete it, it goes sideways. That is exactly as it should be, that is what it means to think by writing. From a practical point of view, sometimes that is fine but sometimes it is a challenge. Sometimes I simply follow the post where it wants to go and that is what gets posted. Sometimes, however, I cannot do that, either because completing that post would take more time than I have or because what I learn as I write is that the idea that inspired that draft was flawed and I end up discarding it. In that case, I move on to one of my other drafts. In the case of this month's post, I repeated that process three times. At that point, almost half way through the month in which the post was to appear, I decided my inability to complete any of my draft posts had to itself become the post; I have to blog about the fact that I have Blogger's Block.

Why do I have Blogger's Block? A while back, I posted that when I have trouble blogging, that often reflects a problem with my cycling and that certainly could be true this time, both in the long term and in the short term. Long term, I have found it harder to maintain a consistent and sufficient riding schedule ever since my move to Emerald Hills in 2020. I think the hills around my new home, the COVID pandemic, and my advancing age all factor into this. In the short term, I am just now coming out of a month long slump caused by a combination of a nasty norovirus infection, bad weather, and discouragement. However, in addition to whatever impact my cycling problems had on my ability to complete a blog post, I think there was a conceptual issue which also got in the way. That conceptual issue is that I don't understand how to quantitate the impact of Intensity on both my Fatigue and on my Fitness. (Intensity is how "hard" I ride, e.g. how fast.) I know Intensity matters, I just don't know how much. I think that every time I tried to finish a post, I ran into this issue and got stuck. 

What are the twelve draft blog posts I have queued up and why can't I complete any of them? Here are their tentative titles:

1. Perverse Incentives
2. Perspective
3. Heart Rate: A Sanity Check
4. Using the Banister Model Before and During Training
5. Displaying Fatigue, Fitness, Form, and Load
6. I Am Old
7. The Metric Revisited
8. Current Status of My Bikes
9. Not Door to Door
10. 50,000 Miles ... and Now What?
11. Hughes ToDos
12. Ideas

Drafts 1 through 5 are all somehow tied up with the issue of Intensity. I suspect some of these will be dropped or merged as I work through my thoughts on this issue. (If I fail to work through my thoughts, then they all five will be dropped.) Drafts 6 and 7 are at early stages of development and I am not yet convinced there is enough there to generate a blog post. Drafts 8 through 10 are waiting on events. When these events happen, I will be able to complete these posts. Drafts 11 and 12 are not really drafts at all, but collections of ideas. In summary, I think that before the end of March, I am going to have to come to terms with my confusion about Intensity if I want to have something to post.

In my despair at my Blogger's Block, I asked myself is if it is time to stop posting, to close down or at least freeze this blog? I hope not! Draft number 10, "50,000 Miles ... and Now What?" is one post I am very excited about, I just have to reach 50,000 miles of riding to be able to post it. There is another post I am excited about that isn't on the list. 2024 is the year of my 75th birthday. To me, this is a big deal, three quarters of a century old! Never in my life have I done a birthday ride, a ride where the length of the ride in miles is equal to my age. Knowing myself, a 75 mile ride would be a big challenge, but possible if I don't have any bad luck (e.g. illness), if I keep it as easy as possible (e.g. flat), and if I prepare diligently. The reason it is not on my list is that I am superstitious enough that I fear jinxing the ride if I were to be so presumptuous as to create a draft post about it before it is completed. Besides completing the ride, to make it to that post I would have to come up with four or five more posts before then. Can I do that? Here's hoping!